


You waltz and I tango but we both keep different beats

by ahotep100



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahotep100/pseuds/ahotep100
Summary: What did Phryne think and feel during and after Jack's "liberal-minded men" rant in Death Defying Feats?The title refer to a Swedish song called Som skapta för varandra (Created for each other) from Jonas Gardell's musical Livet är en schlager.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before I start, I just want to say that I have decided I will keep writing Coming Home. I just need a break from it.

She knew she was extremely late. In any other case, she wouldn't have minded letting a man wait, but it was Jack. 

"The Inspector is waiting in the parlour Miss", Mr Butler said as she rushed into Wardlow and up the stairs. She needed to change fast.

 

~~phrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrack~~

 

She practically ran down the stairs only a couple of minutes later, hoping Jack was still there. She saw the door to the parlour open. Realising it was probably him, intending to leave, she leapt forward.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, a little out of breath. "At last!" She closed the door behind her, really wishing her father would get the message that she wanted to be alone with Jack tonight. "I'm so sorry I kept you."

"I'm sorry too Miss Fisher", he stated somewhat curtly. He met her eyes. He seemed off somehow.

Distracted by his words, her own got stuck in her throat. Intending to get him to relax and brighten the mood, she gestured towards the coffee table.

"Why don't you sit down and..." she said, only to see two of her green coctail glasses empty on a tray on the table before her. Beside them was an empty tumbler that had probably once contained whisky  "... have another drinks?"

What was this? Had he drank all this himself?

"No no no", he said, sounding uncertain. "I...I...I need to make something perfectly clear."

Sher turned around towards him both confused and interested in what he had to say.

"Go ahead!" she encouraged.

"You know I'm a liberal-minded man. Maybe not as liberal-minded as... as you'd like me to be or as... much as I would like me to be for you. But I don't want you to think I'm like all those other, liberal-minded men."

What did he mean by that? There was no other men in her life but him.

"The parade..." he continued and she realised she couldn't think on any other time when he had been so animated when he spoke. He normally was so in control of everything. "...The constant parade of French artists of fugitive anarchist of...of...of Russian clairvoyants of...of... tango dancers! ... And men who... men who wear damn cravats!"

He almost leapt forward, picking up the shot glass from the coffee table and downed the content all at once. She took a deep breath, surprised by his revelation. He was jealous of her father! It was almost laughable, but she realised it most have cost him dearly to say something like that to her. He was such a private man. This was probably the reason why he had consumed all the alcohol before she came. And how could he think those other men compared to him? He meant the world to her, how could he not know that?!

She opened her mouth, intending to tell him it was her father, but he continued.

"Well, I'm not one of them and I never will be", he stated firmly, looking her straight into the eyes. "Even if you want me to be."

Her eyes fell away from his for a second, before meeting them again. He was serious.

"That's all I have to say!" he stated before turning away from her.

She didn't know what to do or say. Only that she had to stop him. She didn't want him to leave! She wanted to comfort him. Telling him he wasn't one of the "parade of men" as he had called it. He was special! She didn't know how it had happened. It just had. He couldn't walk away from what they had now! She needed to stop him before it was too late!

"Jack wait!" she exclaimed, rushing after him. He turned around and she realised, she didn't know what to say. She took a deep breath, but before she had a chance to say anything, the parlour door opened. It hit Jack in the back of his head and he fell straight to the floor, unconscious. She gasped and looked up at the intruder, a little shocked by the turn of event. Of course it had to be her father.

"I forgot my nerve tonic", he said in his usual cheerful tone before walking into the parlour.

 


	2. Chapter 2

She lowered herself to the floor beside Jack.

"Jack?" she called out to him, smacking his cheek lightly. No response. He was out like the light.

"Someone's drunk my nerve tonic!" her father exclaimed from behind her and she realised what had happened. Jack most have downed it in the shot glass just a moment before and was probably now suffering the result of it. Adding to that all the alcohol he must have consumed before and there was no surprise that she wasn't able to wake him.

"Father", she almost growled. Frustrated that the older man again had ruined her night with Jack.

"Is he the one who drank it?" her father said with a small chuckle.

"Yes and now you have to help me moving him upstairs", she hissed at him before turning her head away from him. "Mr Butler!"

The loyal butler appeared in the parlour doorway only a second later.

"Oh dear!" he said, before lowering himself to the floor.

"Help him father!" she growled again, letting her father know that this was not something he could negotiate with. To her surprise, Henry Fisher put down the shot glass he had refilled and stepped over to them. Both older men lifted the younger one up from the floor.

"Which room Miss?" asked Mr Butler.

"Mine of course!" she answered and the butler smiled.

 

~~phrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrack~~

 

The older men placed Jack carefully on her bed.

"Will the blue silk pyjamas do Miss?" Mr Butler asked and she nodded. He smiled before leaving the room.

Her father hovered as if to say something.

"Good night father!" she said harshly and for once he took the hint and obeyed, leaving her alone Jack.

She sat down on her bed next to him. Carefully stroking his cheek.

"Oh Jack!" she exclaimed. "What have you done to yourself?"

She decided to do something she had been wanting to do for quite some time. She started with opening the bottons on his suit jacket. This was not how she had imagine undressing the handsome man lying on her bed. She had seldom seen him without his suit. The only time she could recall was when he and Hugh had dived into the ocean in Queenscliff. Come to think of it, she couldn't recall him even taking of his suit jacket. She knew him to be a very private and serious man. He normally clung to his suit like a clam clung to its shell. He always tried to be neat and perfect she realised. She wondered how much of it was to hide the inner turmoil she had been able to peak from time to time during the year they had known each other. She knew a great passion lurked underneath the neatly made up facade and not for the first time, did she wonder if that passion would come through entirely if they ended up in bed together. She would have prefered to just rip the clothes off of him, but she knew he wouldn't approve of it. Not least while he was unconsious.

She had got as far as unbottoning his shirt, when she remembered his depiction of their relationship as a waltz after the murder at the university. She had commented that a waltz was slow and close and had asked if they weren't a tango. She suddenly realised that they might be both. He was the slow and close waltz and she the fierce and fast tango. She

She paused for a second before opening his shirt to look at his chest. This would probably be a very big step for him. While she hesitated, her hand stretched up to detach his curls from the pomade he always used. Like his suit, his hair was always perfectly kept back. She wondered about the texture of it without the pomade. Would it curl? The hair felt a little stiff underneath her fingers. Probably the pomade, and she wondered if it would be soft otherwise. Would he like it if she ran her fingers through his hair if he was awake. Her fingers left his hair to cup his cheek. Stroking his thumbs over his lips, thinking about the kiss they had shared as they waited for René. It had been soft and short, but revealing his passionate nature all the same. She reached down and placed her lips softly on his lips. She couldn't help herself. She had longed to kiss him for far to long. He tasted like alcohol.

"Oh Jack!" she exclaimed softly. "Look at you!"

Her fingers slipped down to his chest again, rolling him around to get the shirt off of him like she had done with the jacket and waistcoat. As the shirt fell away, Jack's chest was revealed to her. It was muscular and taut. Much more than she would have thought. She couldn't help but stroke him. The lack of reaction from him on just about anything she did to his body, was worrying her a bit, but that nerve tonic usually knocked her father out for a good eight hours even though he hadn't had any alcohol before.

"I was looking forward to have dinner with you yesterday Jack", she whispered, still stroking his chest. "I wanted to dance with you too. Try to get us to fall in steps together."

She reached down and began opening his trousers, when Mr Butler returned. Pyjamas in hand.

"Should I help him Miss?" he asked gently.

"Yes, I think that would be for the best Mr Butler", she smiled, raising herself from the bed and walking out of the room. She hoped to one day be able to dress him herself, but she knew that tonight his privacy was probably to important, having just lost his pride.

 

~~phrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrackphrack~~

 

She returned when she saw Mr Butler leave the bedroom. During the time away, she had dressed herself in her peach pyjamas. Mr Butler had tucked Jack in nicely in bed and she smiled at the sight. Unconsious, the tension that was so often present in his face was completely gone and he looked so peaceful.

She picked up the covers and got in bed next to him. Sharing a bed with him felt nice. Even nicer than she had thought. She placed a hand on his chest again. Felt it rise and fall with his deep, unconsious breaths. She raised her head a little, tucking his arm in underneath her head, so she could rest in his embrace.

"This was how I wanted both yesterday and this evening to end Inspector", she whispered lovingly, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the cheek. "Only you would be far more active."

She closed her eyes. She could do this. Wanted to do this in fact. Wanted to have dinner with him every night with all the candles lit. Wanted to have hot, passionate sex with him. Wanted to hold him. Wanted to touch him. Wanted to dance the nights away with him. They just needed to fall into the same beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not decided if I want to continue this with a little alternation on the next morning. Let me know what you think I should do.


End file.
